


Eighteen

by claro



Series: What we could have been [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bea and Hamish, Humour, The Firm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:05:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claro/pseuds/claro
Summary: Hamish and Bea have just pulled off their most extreme stunt to date and it's time to explain their reasoning.





	Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> Someone said the penultimate line of this to me yesterday and immediately I knew I had to write this.

Sherlock Holmes blinked slowly from his seat at the two teenagers standing in front of him looking entirely unrepentant. Across from him Mycroft was sat in the brown recliner, head tilted slightly, one eyebrow raised. 

'What the FUCK were you thinking?' Bill was pacing the length of the room, anger radiating off him and his face flushed, eyes flashing.

'They clearly weren't thinking,' Mycroft pursed his lips.

'Actually we thought it through very carefully,' Hamish assured with an affirming nod. Beside him Beatrice was wearing her best poker face and had remained silent so far, allowing Hamish to break the news.

So far Sherlock had said nothing, he had just watched them, face impassive.

'I don't think you-'

But whatever Bill had been about to say was cut off by the bang of the door being thrown open and a furious Greg Lestrade crossed the floor in two strides, grabbed his nephew by the shirt and practically threw him against the wall.

'What have you done?' he roared into a shocked Hamish's face, 'Did you force her into it?'

'NO!' Hamish's eyes were wide.

'Daddy!' Beatrice was beside them pulling at her father's arm.

'Lestrade!' Sherlock was on his feet, fiercely defensive of his eldest son.

Bill and Sherlock both took hold of Greg and physically pulled him back from Hamish, who stayed where he was looking terrified. Mycroft had stood from his seat but had not moved any further.

'Greg, this is our home!' Bill hissed in his ear tightening his grip on the policeman's arm to emphasise his point.

'It's going to be a crime scene in a minute!' Greg growled and tried to lunge towards Hamish again.

'Gregory.' Mycroft finally came forward and put his hand on his husband's shoulder, Greg turned to look at him and immediately his shoulders dropped and his anger drained away.

'She's only eighteen, Myc.' Greg sounded like he was about to cry.

Silence fell in the room, as Bill and Sherlock let go of Greg, who swayed slightly where he stood. Behind them Beatrice and Hamish exchanged looks.

'Is anyone else going to try to hit me or can I move now?' Hamish asked.

Bill turned and glared at him, 'Sit down!' then he pointed to Beatrice, 'You too!'

The teenagers obediently sat side by side on the sofa while their parents took a moment to pace and think and settle themselves.

After three full minutes Beatrice sighed, 'Which of you would like to start?'

Sherlock carefully considered his niece and son. Hamish who was broad and self contained, so like John Watson it was sometimes painful, and Beatrice, with with that defiant tilt of her head that was Mycroft and a determined jaw and set of her mouth that she had inherited from Lestrade. And like John and Lestrade neither of them looked even slightly worried as they faced their parents. Sherlock couldn't help the small quirk of a smile.

Bill caught the movement and glared at his husband warning him not to encourage them.

'Okay,' Greg sighed, 'I'll go first.' he ran his hand through his hair, 'Talk me through exactly what happened.'

Beatrice and Hamish both looked at him as if he was simple.

'We got married,' Hamish said very slowly as if he was speaking to a child.

Greg's eyes flashed a warning and Sherlock could see his hands balling into fists.

'Hamish,' Bill stepped in, 'We don't understand....she's your cousin. Is...is this something....?'

'Something?' Hamish looked confused.

'I think he's asking if we've been dating,' Beatrice said.

'Eww!' Hamish looked horrified, 'No!'

'No?' none of the adults there looked convinced.

'No!' Beatrice assured.

Greg and Bill turned to their respective Holmes's who were better at detecting lies then they were. Mycroft and Sherlock both nodded, a single jerk of the head that was enough to make the other two men relax just slightly.

'Okay,' Greg said, 'Then why have you done this? I don't-....married? For fuck sake!'

Hamish and Beatrice exchanged another look, this time of exasperation, and there seemed to be a silent conversation going on between them, eventually Beatrice huffed out a sigh and they turned back towards the adults, but it was Hamish that spoke first.

'The trust Granny set up will mature when I turn 30 or when I marry, whichever comes first.'

'But my trust,' Beatrice spat, 'Will ONLY be released IF I get married.'

There was a confused silence that was broken by Sherlock's soft laugh.  
'That is rather brilliant.' he said.

'Oh Sherlock don't encourage them,' Mycroft drawled.

It took a few more moments for Bill and Greg to catch up.

'You got married so you got access to your trust funds?' Greg asked.

The teenagers nodded in unison.

'It's perfectly legal,' Beatrice said.

'And practical. It fulfills all the conditions of our respective trusts and as husband and wife we can avoid inheritance tax thresholds should one of us die.'

'It also means that we have a controlling share of the estate going forward.'

Even Mycroft looked impressed with the reasoning. But Greg was still caught up with his own thoughts.

'And you're not-?'

'Sleeping together?' Beatrice looked at him over the top of her glasses, 'No. It's purely a business arrangement.'

'But you realise that's what people are going to think?'

Hamish shrugged, 'Why should we care what people think?'

They had a point, after all, they had never before cared what anyone else thought. Except each other.

'It's what your Granny is going to think, though.'

'….yesss,' Hamish said slowly, 'But every business venture faces some opposition.'

Greg thought 'opposition' was a massive understatement, but didn't need to say that outloud.

'But ultimately,' Beatrice said, 'We sighed a single sheet of paper and earned six and a half million pounds in twenty minutes.'

This time it was Bill and Greg who exchanged glances. Although they had been with their respective Holmes men for almost twenty years they had each struggled to come to terms with the actual amount of wealth that surrounded them.

Greg shrugged, 'Fair enough,' was all he could manage.

'Alright you two, clear off while we talk about this.' Bill ordered. 

Bea and Hamish didn't need to be told twice and they practically ran for the door to head back down to C.

Alone in the living room of B the four parents looked at each other in silence for a long time. And then burst into laughter.

#

Angus, Manus, Margot, Jean-Christophe, Vivienne and Allegra were standing in a line. Angus the eldest at twelve and Allegra just eight. And all wearing identical expressions of innocence.

Bill surveyed the six younger members of The Firm, not trusting a single one of them. Behind him Greg, Sherlock and Mycroft were looking on with stern expressions.

'Alright, I don't want to hear a single word,' he warned pointing his finger, 'Just a show of hands. Right?' he took a breath, 'How many of you knew?'

He didn't elaborate on what, but he didn't need to because slowly, one by one six hands were raised in the air.

He sighed.

'Okay. Do you have any more secrets?' 

Six pairs of eyes were wide with innocence that didn't fool any of the adults in the room.

'Is there anything we should know?'

There was a slow nodding of heads.

'Are you going to tell us?' 

Six heads shook in unison.

Sighing again Bill shook his head and pointed upstairs, 'Go.'

In the blink of an eye the room was clear of children. Behind Bill Greg spoke.

'Can't fault their loyalty.'

#

Downstairs in C Beatrice was laying on stomach on the rug, chemistry text book open in front of her, making notes as she read. Perched on his armchair Hamish was painting his toenails purple.

'Well that went better than I thought,' he said, carefully negotiating his little toe.

'Yeah, they seemed happy with the financial aspect.'

'It's a good reason for doing what we did.'  
'Should we have told them the other reason?'

Beatrice glanced up at him chewing her lip, 'I don't think that's a good idea.'

'You don't think they'll get over it eventually?'

Beatrice shook her head, 'No.'

Hamish paused in his painting and looked down at his cousin-come-wife, 'Yeah, you're probably right. Uncle Greg will hit the roof when he realises they can't make us testify against each other now.'

They smiled at each other and went back to their activities.


End file.
